Our Man on the Hellmouth
by Nimbus Llewelyn
Summary: A sequel to 'All things considered'. After the Second Wizarding War, Harry is at a loose end. When a certain High School explodes, that changes, and the Wizarding World and the Slayer collide. Start of a long and likely slow updating series. Buffy/Harry pairing. Possible Xander/Ginny.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**** Second in the All things considered series. A couple of years had passed, and Harry is bored. A chance newspaper article starts him on a path which will lead to a new life, a new love and lots of things blowing up. **

**I own neither Buffy nor Harry Potter, owned by Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling respectively.**

**A note on Auror Rosenberg. Yes, he is a relative of Willow's. Yes, he's very well informed, but no, as shown below, he isn't omniscient.**

**The update rate on this is probably going to be fairly slow, as I have little time on my hands and a whole other series on (LOTR/HP), a major Harry Dresden/Doctor Who crossover, other projects in the works and major exams to boot. **

**Recently edited slightly after some advice from the fantastic Hai-Ju.**

Harry Potter was at a loose end. Eighteen years old, a war hero and with nothing to do other than to count the days until his auror assignment came through in two days and dodge reporters, especially since his Godson, Teddy was being raised by Andromeda. He and Ginny had had a fairly sweet eight month relationship, before deciding it was better to stay as friends, he'd applied to the Auror office and been accepted in a heartbeat, Ron not far behind. Hermione and Ron were happily dating, still arguing as much as ever, but there was a tinge of 'old married couple' that hadn't been present beforehand.

Frankly, he was bored, so he left his apartment in muggle London (the exchange rate from galleons to pounds was a very favourable one, and his parents and Sirius had left him the equivalent of at least thirty million pounds, along with several properties. When he had seen the sheer amount he had in the vaults, along with all the valuable heirlooms, his eyes had bugged out and he had resolved not to tell anyone. Ever) and went for a walk.

One thing he particularly enjoyed about Muggle London was the way no one stared at him as if he was the most important person on the planet. True, he did garner some looks from people as he walked by, but that was mostly down to him being reasonably good looking and moving at a confident pace that fell just short of a swagger. The walk of someone who knew they were not to be messed with. He bought a copy of the Times and a copy of the Guardian, then went to get a coffee. As he flipped to the international news section, he saw something that nearly made him choke on his coffee. Coughing and spluttering and waving away concerned looks, he began to read more carefully.

**American High School Explodes in Graduation day tragedy**

**Monsters really not behind it, city officials confirm. Gas suspected**

The headline blared. Harry might have believed it if he hadn't seen a picture of a young woman he had last seen over a year ago smiling out at him, with the caption;_ Buffy Summers, noted for her bravery in rescuing trapped students and organising the defence against a spontaneous attack by gangs on PCP despite panic caused by an unexpected eclipse_.

He grinned broadly, and left a tip on the table as he gathered up his papers. He had letters to write, research to do and a journey to plan. A journey to Sunnydale, California.

A week later, Harry's request to be seconded to the American Auror office and build up his knowledge of Hellmouths, while acting as the liaison for the Magical World to the Slayer and the Watcher's Council (both of which Harry felt he knew everything there was to know, having endured a two hour long info dump from Hermione on the subject) had been accepted. Since most American wizards, being possessed of remarkable common sense, avoided the dark energy of a Hellmouth like the plague due to its warping effect on the minds and magic of untrained or poorly trained young wizards, and Harry's stature in the global Wizarding community, this was not difficult.

He took a portkey from the Auror office in London, to the Auror Office for South Western America in Los Angeles and was greeted by to local Head Auror.

"Welcome to the United States of America, Mr Potter, my name is Michael Rosenberg, Auror Chief for the South Western United States. We just want debrief you before sending you on to Sunnydale," said a tall man around ten years older than him, with red hair, brown eyes, freckles and a ready smile, stretching his hand out to shake.

"Glad to be here, Mr Rosenberg," Harry replied, surprised at the man's resemblance to the Weasley family, shaking his hand automatically. Then again, Harry thought as they walked through the bustling department, the Weasley's do get everywhere.

As if the man had read his mind, he said, "My ancestors were a branch of the Weasley family that came across in the 19th century, in case you were wondering. I've been told by my colleagues in London that there is a serious resemblance between my family and our distant cousins in England."

"I did wonder, as I went to Hogwarts with Ron Weasley, who's also joining the Auror's," Harry replied ruefully. "I got to know the family quite well."

"And dated the youngest daughter," Rosenberg replied with a sly smile. At Harry's shocked expression, he said dryly, "My secretary went to Hogwarts before her folks moved here, and she still gets the Prophet. I read it after she's done with it, mostly to see what your government's thinking. When I'm really bored, I read the society pages. My secretary sees that as a signal to find some major crisis before I make one for something to do."

Harry snorted briefly, and said, "So you know that the previous Ministers didn't like me much."

"Yeah, don't worry, most people this side of the Atlantic believed you and Dumbledore. We respected the old man, mostly because he didn't refer to us as 'bloody colonials' every time he thought we weren't listening, which is more than I can say for Fudge," Rosenberg reassured him as they entered his office. While most of the people bustling around the office had shown only a mild amount of curiosity, Rosenberg's secretary openly stared at Harry, before her boss kindly brought her attention back to the present.

"Oh, yes, sorry Sir. I've just received the latest reports on Wolfram & Hart, Caritas and the newly opened Angel Investigations," she said, looking a little flustered, handing over a series of files.

"That's just fine, Janine, I'll read them later," Rosenberg said with a smile, as Harry said a polite hello.

"Angel?" Harry muttered, connecting the dots from what Hermione had told him. "As in Angelus?"

"The very same vampire, Mr Potter, except he's now possessed of a soul, and has been for the last century," Janine interjected, then looked a little sad, and added, "except for a brief incident last year. Poor Jenny."

"We lost one of our contacts in Sunnydale, Jenny Calendar, last year, when Angel lost his soul and became Angelus. Last we heard he was sent to Hell, but he's resurfaced, with his soul again. All this is very relevant as…" Rosenberg explained

"He was dating the Slayer, yes, she told me," Harry interrupted.

"So you've met her before, then?" Rosenberg asked, looking surprised as they entered his office, and he flicked his wand to pull out a chair.

"Once, in 1996. She mentioned Angel, but not by name," Harry said, a faint grin on his face as he remembered a chat with someone who understood what it was like to have destiny breathing down your neck. That and the kiss.

"I take it that's why you wanted to be assigned here?" Rosenberg asked, noting the wistful smile on Harry's face with a little amusement.

"Yeah, that and the fact that I have to dodge reporters and autograph hunters all the time in Britain. I figure that spending a bit of time over here would be good for me, and I wanted to learn how to fight vampires. Wizards, I know, vampires I don't," Harry said casually.

"Well then, we'd better bring you up to speed. You know what a Hellmouth is, correct?"

"A portal into Hell itself, a nexus of dark energy that attracts all sorts of demons. The Slayer's job is to kill them and stop someone from opening the Hellmouth," Harry confirmed.

"Excellent. The town it's on, Sunnydale, has 38,500 people, 43 churches and at least twelve enormous cemeteries and a permanent state of denial. No wizards or witches live there, mostly because they have a tendency to disappear. Wizarding blood is much prized in the demon community, mostly because they think it tastes nice and it's a powerful spell ingredient. The most common and dangerous things there are the vampires," Rosenberg said briskly, setting up a slideshow in the same manner as Snape had done when he covered for Lupin in 3rd year. It began to show a series of pictures, including the vampires Rosenberg mentioned as the slideshow rolled.

"A lot of weak vampires hang around there, but there are a few big ones. In recent years, the Order of Aurelius has been located there, along with all of the Scourge of Europe, at one point or another. Thanks to the Slayer, the Order of Aurelius has been destroyed, the eldest of the Scourge of Europe staked, an attempt to drag the world into hell by Angelus has been prevented and Angel was re ensouled, Spike and Drusilla driven out of town, aside from a brief visit by a thoroughly drunk Spike several months ago. They are now believed to be somewhere in South America," Rosenberg paused to indicate each vampire in turn as they appeared on the screen.

"The Slayer has also disassembled the Judge, an ancient demon that can only be dismembered rather than fully destroyed. She used a rocket launcher, characteristic of her out of the box thinking. Most recently, she has thwarted an attempt by the town's immortal Mayor, Richard Wilkins I, II and III, to ascend into full Demon form, by waiting until he ascended and blowing him up with an impressive amount of dynamite, taking the High School down with him," Rosenberg said. "In short, a very impressive young lady," he added, smiling at Harry's raised eyebrows.

Harry let out a long, low whistle. "She never told me she did that much."

"I suppose keeping up a secret identity for that long removes the incentive to brag," Rosenberg said. "Buffy Summers is currently attending UC Sunnydale, along with two friends who have assisted her in the past. Willow Rosenberg, a clever but non-magical muggle, who I suspect is a distant relative on the muggle side of the family, and Daniel 'Oz' Osbourne, a werewolf." On seeing Harry's startled expression, he asked cautiously, "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No, I was just surprised, carry on, please," Harry said, mulling over the availability of wolfsbane potion.

"Also in the area are Alexander 'Xander' Harris, her mother, Joyce Summers, who is aware of the existence of the supernatural and her daughter's role in it, and her Watcher, Rupert Giles."

Fixing Harry with a kind look, he said softly, "Rupert knew your parents. I believe he was in the organisation called 'The Order of the Phoenix', and looked up to your parents, despite being several years old than they were. After they died, he fell into dabbling with black magic, resentful at the destiny of a Watcher and grief stricken by the losses of his friends. He took the name 'Ripper', and I suspect many feared him more than any of the Death Eater's short of Bellatrix Lestrange. He was a powerful and very dangerous young man, but thankfully he rarely sought to actively hurt non-magical people, considering them not to be worth his time. We do not know the precise details, but one day Rupert apparently strode into the British Ministry of Magic, and handed over a series of wands, all snapped. He said that one was his, and the rest belonged to a group he had been part of that summoned demons. When someone in the group died, Rupert regained his senses, took the wands of the participants and snapped them, and has apparently avoided all use of magic ever since."

Harry just looked stunned, and said, "Sirius never mentioned him, nor anyone else in the original order."

"That's because they formally parted ways when he fell into darkness, and after he came back to the Light, he never tried to regain contact with any of them, possibly because he was scared that Alastor Moody would hex him on sight," Rosenberg replied equably.

"Sounds like Moody all right," Harry murmured, processing the information.

"Rupert will be the one you meet, and with his help we've bought you an apartment. To forestall your protests, it'll be used by your eventual successor on the Hellmouth as this is an official post and house prices in Sunnydale are remarkably cheap," Rosenberg said as Harry opened his mouth to do just that.

Subsiding somewhat reluctantly, Harry nodded.

"You have everything you need?"

Harry nodded, and patted a small bag at his hip. "One of my friend's is brilliant at Charms, she enlarged it for me," he explained.

"Your job will basically be to assist the Slayer and send warning if there's something you can't deal with by yourselves or if you find a Dark Wizard lurking on the Hellmouth. We'll be paying you the same salary you would get in England at your level, but I suspect with a branch of Gringotts right here in LA, I doubt you'll be short of cash. I'll send one of my aurors to give you directions to Sunnydale, it's two hours away. I hear you have a car?"

"A black Aston Martin DB-7. It's been portkeyed to your car park," Harry confirmed, a slight smile on his face.

Rosenberg raised a single eyebrow and nodded, then called, "Janine, can you send Harrison up? Tell him he's escorting the new liaison to the Watcher's Council, and Hellmouth Watchman to Sunnydale. Don't tell him who it is," he added with a wink at Harry.

"I'm afraid Auror Harrison is something a fan of yours, but he's muggleborn and one of the few who can competently drive, and he knows the Sunnydale area," Rosenberg said, a hint of apology in his tone.

Harry shrugged, then sighed at the inevitable, "Oh my God!" which signified the arrival of Auror Harrison.

Harry stood up and shook the round eyed Harrison's hand as Rosenberg made the introductions. "Auror Harrison, meet Harry Potter, seconded from the British Auror Office to be our man on the Hellmouth."

"I've read all about you sir!" Harrison said, still wide-eyed, nodding to his superior briefly. "Is it true you killed a full grown basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor?"

Harry restrained himself from rolling his eyes with difficulty. It was going to be a long two hours.

As it turned out, Harrison was calm, collected and competent, once he had adjusted to giving directions to the famous Harry Potter.

"Just take a left here, sir, and we'll be right by your house. It's right next door to Mr Giles, so he can help you settle in," he said formally, then a shy smile spread across his face and reached into his pocket, producing a Wizard's photo of Harry as Harry parked the car.

Harry withdrew a biro and signed his name crisply, without having to be asked. Normally he would avoid it, but the man had taken two hours out of his day to help him get to where he needed to be, so Harry felt like he owed him that at least.

"Thanks for the directions, Harrison."

"No problem, Sir. Enjoy Sunnydale," Harrison said cheerfully, looking around to make sure no one was looking, then disapparating.

Harry looked up at his new house and murmured, "Home Sweet Home," fishing out the key Harrison had given him.

The house was lightly furnished, with simple squashy sofa's, a couple of armchairs and a television. The American Ministry had even gone to the trouble of stocking the fridge, Harry discovered as he gratefully made a chicken sandwich, which he dug into ravenously. He'd left London at 7:00 pm that evening, and arrived in Sunnydale at 1:30pm in the afternoon, so once he'd had a snack and a brief nap, he made his way over to the house of the man he was supposed to be liaising with.

He knocked on the door and was soon greeted by a tall man in his early forties, who said, "Harry Potter, I presume?"

"That's me. I'm the new liaison to the Watcher's Council and 'Hellmouth Watchman'. Basically, I help out the Slayer and kill demons," Harry said easily.

"We can never have too much help here. We already have a witch, Willow Rosenberg, but it seems that life on the Hellmouth has warped her natural magical abilities, making them closer to Wicca, or earth magic, and only revealing themselves at age 16. She shows signs of being very powerful one day, and a trained and powerful wizard could help with guiding her," Giles replied, then said, "I'll go and make some tea."

Once the tea was ready, Giles said quietly, "It's good to see another British Wizard over here, particularly Lily and James' son. You have her eyes, though I suspect you get told that a lot," he added, chuckling at Harry's chagrined nod.

"I heard that you knew them, and were in the Order of the Phoenix," Harry said, hopeful for any tidbits of information about his parents.

"I was, and I admired them very much. Your father was one of my best friends, and he and Sirius helped me stand up to my family over my destiny as a Watcher, and your mother was always a sympathetic listener. When they were killed, and Sirius arrested, I fell into something of a depression. I even wished that Voldemort would come back, and things would be like they used to be, for as dark as those days were, your parents and godfather were some of the best friends I ever had. After that, well, I suspect Auror Rosenberg gave you the lowdown," Giles said with some difficulty.

Harry reached out a hand to awkwardly pat the older man on the arm. "I heard. I don't think badly of you."

"Thank you. That means a lot. Anyway, how is Sirius? I heard he'd been acquitted, and that Peter was the one who betrayed your parents after all," Giles said, steering the conversation back to more normal territory, then winced as a flash of pain crossed Harry's face.

"He was acquitted posthumously. He broke out of Azkaban in my third year and explained what happened. His case was helped by the fact that Pettigrew had been masquerading as my friend's pet rat since he'd framed Sirius, but Pettigrew escaped. Sirius spent the next couple of years on the run, settling in his old family home. He helped the second order and was pushed through the Veil in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries," Harry said quietly.

"Oh my dear boy, I'm so sorry, I didn't know. Remus? Dumbledore?" Giles said, horror struck.

"Dead. His baby son is my godson, but his grandmother's raising him. Also dead. Snape killed him on his own orders in an attempt to prevent Voldemort getting his hands on the Elder wand," Harry said, then changed the subject. "What have you been up to since you became Watcher to Buffy? I heard someone called Jenny Calendar was…" Harry trailed off when he saw Giles' own expression take a turn for the pained.

"Oh. She was close to you, wasn't she?" Harry said.

Giles nodded and stood up decisively. "She was. And this calls for something stronger than tea," he said, fishing out some scotch, pouring Harry and himself a glass each.

"To lost friends," he said, downing his glass.

"To lost friends," Harry echoed the toast, savouring the burn of the scotch.

"I've heard there are a lot of Vampires round here," Harry said, but before Giles could answer, the door opened and a familiar voice spoke up.

"You can say that again," Buffy said loudly, then her eyes widened as she saw Harry.

"Hello," she said softly.

"Hello to you too," Harry said with a smile. Giles noticed that both of them were blushing slightly, and hid a smile. Maybe this young man was the way for Buffy to get over Angel.

"Buffy, this is the new Wizarding Liaison to the Watcher's Council. He doubles as Hellmouth Watchman," Giles said. "I believe you've met once already."

"Yeah, Surrey, a year or two back," Harry said, not taking his eyes off Buffy.

"Giles, make with the splainy, now," Buffy said, still staring at Harry.

"Essentially, Harry's job is to help kill demon's, vampires and to make sure that no dark wizards try to harness the Hellmouth," Giles said.

"Uh-huh," Buffy said, still staring.

Harry's lips quirked up in a smile. "Are we going to stare at each other all day? Not that it isn't fun and all, I just want to know," he said with a touch of awkwardness.

"Um, no, no. Giles, I was just going to ask you, do you think there are any apocalypses or Big Bad material on the way?" Buffy said, looking flustered and turning away

"Well, no. As far as I can see, there are no prophecies that are due to come to fruition any time soon," Giles said.

"Oh," Buffy said, then looked at Harry. "You wanna hit the Bronze tonight? It's the best club in town. Well, it's the only club in town."

"Buffy, the boy's just come straight from England, the time difference is eight hours, he must be knackered," Giles interjected.

"No, I think I'll go. Besides, if I fall asleep, Buffy can carry me back," Harry joked lightly.

"Cool, I'll swing by and pick you up at 7, yeah?" Buffy said, turning around and leaving, flashing a smile at Harry as she went.

Harry blinked.

"She's quite something, isn't she?" Giles said, smiling slightly.

Harry ran his hands through his hair and nodded distractedly. "She is at that."

The two passed the afternoon by cheerfully swapping Hogwarts stories and tales of the first and second Order of the Phoenix. Around six, Harry went back next door to get changed into jeans and deep green t-shirt.

Right on seven o clock, Buffy knocked on the door.

"That's my cue," Harry said, getting up and shaking hands with Giles. "I'll see you tomorrow, barring an apocalypse. It's been a pleasure."

"Likewise, Harry," Giles said, smiling.

"Hey, wizard boy, the Bronze ain't gonna wait forever," Buffy said with false impatience.

"Coming, slay girl," Harry called, making his way out the door.

As the two walked to the Bronze, they fell into talking about what they'd done since they'd last seen each other.

"… so I blew up the Mayor with, like, crap loads of explosives. After that it's just been the odd vamp, Spike, and…" Buffy said, trailing off.

Harry arched an eyebrow at her, and she waved him away. "It's nothing, I just learnt that human guys can be just as a big jerks as vamps. And this guy was even worse than the Watcher's Council."

Harry cautiously reached out and hugged her, and was exceedingly glad when she leaned into it, instead of tearing his arm off at the shoulder. "It's painful when you break up with someone, even if it's a friendly split. Come on, let's have some fun and forget this jerk of yours."

Buffy smiled sadly and hugged him, before stepping away.

"So what did you get up to?" she asked. "Come on mister, I told you all about me, now it's your turn," she said, playfully poking him in the ribs.

Harry winced exaggeratedly and said melodramatically, "back woman! Before you injure me further!"

Buffy pouted at him. Harry stared for a few moments before melting under the pout.

"Is pouting a slayer super power as well? I'll tell you. That year, I came across a potions book written by someone called the half-blood Prince…" Harry said, launching into the story of his life from sixth year until the present.

"You've done a lot," Buffy said. "I mean, you conducted a full on war, broke into the most secure bank in the world and destroyed a majorly nasty big bad."

"So have you. I can't claim to have blown up my school to destroy a giant demon snake," Harry said.

"You stabbed one instead."

"The basilisk? I nearly died in the process and got lucky. Besides, the Scourge of Europe are famous and feared in my world as well. No wizard aside from Dumbledore ever survived an encounter with one of them, let alone defeated them," Harry retorted.

"We've both been lucky. Lucky in our friends," Buffy said as they walked up to the entrance of the Bronze, handing over cash as they went in.

"I'll drink to that. If we're actually allowed to drink alcohol here, anyway," Harry said, automatically falling in behind Buffy as she led the way through the crowded club, sliding between and past people with the ease of long practice. And she looked very good as she did it, all lithe and… He shook himself. Down Harry! You barely know the girl, and you're already ogling her.

But, Harry had to admit, there was a lot to ogle. And he wasn't the only one who noticed. He tore his eyes away from Buffy for long enough to see a tall, dark haired man leaning against the nearest wall see her, laugh and point at her while chatting to his friends in a manner that Harry just knew meant, 'I tapped that'. All but one of them laughed with him, the other man, tall and affable looking, just looked angry. As Harry and Buffy walked past them, the man said in a carrying voice, sneering after Buffy as he did so, "Well, you know the difference between a freshman girl and a toilet seat. The toilet seat doesn't follow you around after you use it."

Harry heard the words, saw Buffy's shoulders hunch in pain as the comment hit home, and promptly reacted with characteristic Gryffindor rashness. Moving like lightning, he twisted and punched the man in the face, being rewarded with a loud crunch as his nose broke, then grab him by the shoulders and slam him into the wall with bone jarring force.

The man looked terrified as Harry hissed, "You don't talk about one of my friends like that. You don't talk about anyone like that. Especially not when I'm around, wanker." Then he folded up as Harry kneed him in the groin. Harry tensed as a hand gently rested on his shoulder. He looked up and saw the owner, the affable looking man who hadn't joined in with the laughter.

"I know Parker acts like an ass, and he had that coming, but don't waste your time on him. He's not worth it. I'm Riley," He said, extending his hand. Harry looked at him for a moment, then shook it.

"Harry Potter. It's good to meet you, but I need to catch up with my friends. Tell - Parker was it? – that if he comes near my friend again, I'll kill him, if she doesn't do it herself," Harry said, and nodded at Riley before leaving to re-join a very surprised Buffy.

"Do you do that to every guy you don't like?" she asked dryly with a raised eyebrow.

"Only to the ones trying to hurt my friends," Harry replied evenly.

She looked at him hard for a moment, then nodded in acceptance.

"Buffster! Who's the guy with the glasses?" said a tall dark haired man with a tan, who had more than a little of Ron about him. Next to him was a short red headed woman who felt like she was capable of unleashing serious power and reminded him a little of Hermione, with a bit of Ginny's fire. These would be Xander and Willow.

"Guys, this is Harry, the wizard guy I met in England. According to Giles he's been sent here to help kill demons and stop dark wizards making with the bad on the Hellmouth. Harry, this is my Xander shaped friend and Willow," Buffy said, running the introductions.

"Oh my God, you're a wand wizard," Willow burst in, eyes wide as saucers. Yep, Harry thought, definitely a bit of Hermione in this one. "How does your magic work? Can you show me? Like, I'm a wicca and I can do things like lights, guides, fire, re ensouling vampires but I hear you lot can do all sorts of super cool stu-mmph!" Willow was cut off in mid babble by Xander who deftly covered her mouth.

"Willow, calm it with the babble. The guy just got here. You can do the Spanish Inquisition routine later. I'll even provide the comfy chair!" Xander said, getting odd looks from Buffy and Willow, and a faux horrified one from Harry.

"B-b-but no one expects the Spanish Inquisition," Harry exclaimed, grinning, getting a similarly delighted grin back.

"We have three deadly weapons!" Xander hit back.

"This parrot is deceased. It has joined the choir invisible," Harry countered.

"Nah, it's pining for the fjords," Xander continued in a very bad cockney accent.

Both collapsed in laughter as Willow and Buffy looked on, puzzled.

"You two are very strange," Buffy said.

"Well, they are teenage boys. We have to make allowances," Willow said, smiling slightly.

"Come on and dance," Buffy said suddenly, dragging Harry onto the dance floor before he had a chance to protest.

Riley watched as Buffy dragged the green eyed Brit onto the dance floor and sighed. Forrest patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

"Sorry Riley, but specs got there first. And he got some major points for what he did to Parker. I don't even like Parker and I was wincing at what the Brit did. The guy's got some fighting experience," Forrest said.

Riley snorted. "He's nineteen Forrest, what kind of trouble could he be getting into? Knocking up the wrong girl, getting a little too drunk… kid's stuff."

"Yeah, well, I've been hearing rumours that someone big from abroad is sending an operative to deal with the HST problem round here."

"Who are they?" Riley asked, interest piqued.

"Some really secret European spec ops is all I heard. Powerful, secretive, dangerous… the usual. Even Walsh knows next to nothing about it, she's just pissed that they're sending an operative over here and not telling her about it," Forrest said with a shrug, before going back to his drink. Riley mentally compared Harry, who was now laughing his head off at something Buffy said, to his mental image of a spec ops soldier, and snorted. The kid was nothing more than an ordinary guy, if a loyal one with fast reflexes, he was sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2: Trouble with the Initiative

**A/N: A new chapter, because I'm writing when I should be working. Bad Nimbus!**

**I own neither BTVS, which belongs to Joss Whedon, long may he live, and Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. The line that has been mangled to provide the Initiatives sort of motto comes from Torchwood, which belongs to RTD and the BBC.**

Harry had apparated back home, citing tiredness and drink, and Buffy, Willow and Xander were wandering down through the warehouse district.

"So, what do you guys think of Harry?" Buffy asked perkily.

"He seems nice. And he feels seriously powerful, he can teach me so much!" Willow said, smiling.

"He's a cool guy," Xander confirmed.

"You're just saying that because he's as geeky as you are," Buffy said playfully, and they all shared a laugh.

"How's the thing with Parker going? Is he bothering you?" Xander asked tentatively, planning to dry wall the man into the next century if he tried to hurt Buffy.

"He… said something nasty as we walked past him. So Harry beat him up and said he would kill Parker if he ever went near me again, if I didn't do it first. Apparently he doesn't like people hurting his friends," Buffy said, a faint smile on her face.

"Who do we know who acts like that, I wonder? Harry and Buffy sitting in a tree…" Xander said under his breath, grinning.

"Knock it off Xander, I barely know him," Buffy said, punching him gently on the shoulder and blushing.

Xander merely shared a wink with Willow and said nothing. He knew that Willow would pump her for information later.

Harry apparated back to his house and went to sleep immediately, whereupon he dreamed of a lithe blonde slayer with nigh supernatural pouting skills and a sparkling smile.

When Buffy got back to her dorm, she spilled all to Willow, who made a mental note to tell Xander that, yes, Buffy did in fact have the hots for the mysterious British wizard. And when she went to sleep, she dreamed of messy black haired wizards with shining green eyes.

The next day, there was a loud knocking on Harry's door. Harry woke up, literally rolled out of bed and groaned.

"I'm coming! Alcohol plus jet lag equals headache and sleepiness!" He bellowed, pulling on some clothes, grabbing his glasses and shuffling to the front door, opening it to see Buffy, who was looking disgustingly cheerful. And she was grinning as her eyes travelled up to his hair, which was sticking up all over the place. Harry cast a sidelong glance at the mirror in the living room and sighed. His hair was, putting it lightly, a mess.

"I know. My bed-hair's crazy. Sorry, I just woke up," he said apologetically. "You want some coffee or something?"

"Nah, it's kinda cute," she said with a smile, skipping inside, Harry's eyes following her as if they were metal and she was a magnet, "and yes please."

"Oh, sure," Harry said waving his wand a couple of times, causing coffee to pour itself into the coffee machine and setting it going.

"My ex was useless in the morning and her mum is great at cooking, so she learnt that trick," Harry said by way of explanation.

"Magic is way cool," Buffy said, eyes wide as Harry summoned a couple of mugs from the cupboard. Then she knocked him to the ground as the coffee maker exploded, landing on top of him, smacking his head against the floor.

Buffy lay sprawled on top of him for a long moment as they said nothing. "Well. Subtract the clothes and the blow to my head and I'm living the dream," Harry said, then blushed as Buffy did. He couldn't believe he'd just said that.

"Don't think I won't hit you because you're hurt, mister," she said in playfully stern voice, before looking at the smoking ruin of the coffee machine and the coffee splatters on the wall.

"Si, senorita," Harry muttered, then stood to look at the coffee machine. "I should have mentioned that my ex was much better than me at that particular spell."

"Really? I mean, I heard that exploded coffee machine is apparently the look now," Buffy said innocently.

Harry raised an eyebrow and muttered, "Reparo."

Buffy raised both eyebrows. "Where have you been all my life? You would be amazed at the amount of stuff that gets broken at home when monsters come to visit."

"They're inconsiderate like that," Harry agreed, clearing the coffee from the wall with a flick of his wand, and healing the bump on the back of his head with a couple of taps.

"Maybe we should talk over coffee," Buffy said, then cut Harry off as he opened his mouth. "Let's go out and get some. Before something else blows up," she said cheekily.

Harry stuck out his tongue at her, and went to get cleaned up as she laughed.

Eventually they reached the coffee shop without further explosion or trouble and ordered their drink of choice.

"So, Harry, how do you like Sunnydale?" Willow asked.

"Well, I've been here less than a day, but I can honestly say I love the scenery," Harry winked at Buffy who couldn't hold back a blush.

Xander grinned and opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, Willow, smiling sweetly all the while, stamped on his foot. Harry smothered a snicker. So very Hermione and Ron, he thought, but platonic.

"Where did you learn how to use your magic?" Willow asked, deeply curious.

Harry looked around significantly, and said nothing until Buffy said, "Eh, don't worry, Sunnydale's main river is denial."

Harry snorted, and said, "Yeah, Auror Rosenberg said something like that."

"Rosenberg?" Willow asked with a puzzled frown.

"Some distant relative of yours, runs the Auror office for this region of the US. He doesn't know you have magic, and I'm not immediately minded to tell him. He seems like a good guy, but there are more than a few governments that would love to experiment on someone with a nigh unique hybrid magical core," Harry said.

Willow frowned a little but nodded.

"What's an auror?" Buffy asked.

"Dark wizard hunters. Technically I'm a rookie, but I've had more… practical experience than most. Our job is to bring in Dark wizards, and we're the elite compared to Magical Law Enforcement. One muggleborn operative called us a cross between the Firearms Squad and the SAS," Harry said, then added for the benefit of the confused Americans, "the British versions of SWAT and your Special Forces." With a grin he said, "The SAS are the best in the muggle world of course."

This started a cheerful argument between Harry and Xander over whose special forces were the most badass, as Willow looked a little upset at being marginalised.

"Oh, and to answer your question Willow, I went to a magical school called Hogwarts, considered to be one of the best in the world. It did help that our headmaster was the most powerful Wizard in the world, and even at over one hundred years old, duelled Voldemort to a standstill, forcing him to retreat. Before that he ended the Wizarding equivalent of World War two in 1945, beating the one guy as feared as Voldemort," Harry said, then added, "Unfortunately the Defence against the Dark Arts was cursed, and we only had three competent teachers in the time I was there. My first teacher was being possessed by Voldemort, my second was a fraud of a celebrity who was only good at messing with people's memories, my third was great, a friend of my dad's and a good teacher, but he was a Werewolf, and people don't like them in the Magical World, so he resigned rather than be forced out."

"They hate Werewolves?" Willow asked, outraged.

"Yeah. Class them as 'Dark Creatures' and second class citizens. That's changing, but it's difficult. Oh, that reminds me, I hear your boyfriend is a werewolf, Oz, right?" Harry asked, then added, "I got a basic overview of you guys before I came here."

"Yeah, he is," Willow said then her eyes narrowed, "you aren't going to try and take him away or kill him are you?"

"No! It's just this friend of my dad used something called the Wolfsbane potion. It let him stay in control during the full moon. He still transformed, but only physically. I think I can get hold of some," Harry said, not mentioning how expensive it would be.

Willow smiled sadly, and said, "That would be great, because Oz always had problems with the transformation and I had to lock him in a cage every full moon. But he left, to get control of his wolfy side after another werewolf turned up."

Harry deflated, and said quietly. "Oh. I didn't know, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. So what was your school like?"

"Chaotic, wonderful, dangerous and just a bit mad," Harry said, then proceeded to give Willow a full account of his years at Hogwarts, complete with his personal backstory, as she sat engrossed.

"Can you teach me?" she finally asked.

Harry opened his mouth just as Buffy rebuked her. "Willow, he's already got a job! And he only just got here."

"Yeah, but he's hardly going to be doing much in the day, is he?" Willow pointed out.

As Buffy was about to reply, Harry said, "I'd love to."

When Buffy looked at him, he shrugged. "I've done it before. I can at least give her a basic grounding in Charms, Transfiguration and Defense against the Dark Arts, and I've got all my old text books. Besides, Giles could help me."

"Giles was a wand-wizard?" Willow asked, astounded.

"How much has he told you about his past?" Harry asked guardedly.

"He used to be real scary in a warlocky kind of way some time back, called Ripper," Willow said.

"He knew my parents and was their friend. Their deaths helped tip him over the edge, and he became the most feared person aside from Bellatrix Lestrange – Voldemort's most dangerous servant – and Voldemort himself in Britain and a fair bit of Northern Europe. Mostly he didn't bother with hurting non-magical people, but he still scared magical people a lot. One day, something changed, someone died, and he took his wand and the wands of his companions into the Ministry of Magic and snapped them. As far as I know, he reformed totally, became a Watcher and never touched magic again. As for whatever else happened, well, that's his business, and I think he would appreciate it if you didn't mention it," Harry said flatly.

"A demon summoning went wrong. Something called Eyghon. We've had a couple of run ins with one of his old friends before," Buffy said, unconsciously rubbing the spot where the tattoo had been. Harry didn't miss the motion and looked sharply at her, but said nothing.

"Ethan Rayne," Xander said quietly.

"He's on our wanted list, for mental manipulation, malicious human transfiguration and murder by proxy," Harry said thoughtfully. "Maybe I can collar him if he comes back here."

"It would be nice to know that one of the people we don't have to kill won't be coming back," Buffy said.

"Well Willow, I at least can start teaching you in a couple of weeks," Harry said.

"Why a couple of weeks?"

"Among other things, I want to find out how much you already know, what you can do, the differences between your magic and mine, and most importantly, we'll need to get you a wand," Harry said.

Willow squeaked with joy and impulsively reached out to hug Harry, who, though surprised, returned her hug. Only Xander noticed, with some amusement, Buffy's eyes narrow immediately.

"So much for barely knowing him, huh?" Xander whispered, and she transferred her glare to him, before pouting. "He's only got eyes for you, anyway, like you have for him. Neither of you will admit it though," he sighed as Buffy continued to look grumpy.

"Thank you," Willow said, "Sorry about the touching," she added, casting an apologetic look at the glowering Buffy, who appeared to be mostly mollified.

"No problem. If I hadn't been so shocked when I first found out I was a wizard, I think I would have grabbed onto Hagrid and never let go," Harry chuckled, utterly missing Buffy's brief bout of jealousy.

"So, you wanna come patrolling with m – us, do you wanna come patrolling with us?" Buffy hastily corrected herself.

"Sounds great, I might as well meet the locals," Harry quipped.

"I think we'll leave you guys to it tonight, let Harry get into slaying without anyone else slowing you down," Xander said quickly, then added, "Besides, I think I'm seeing Anya tonight."

"I think I'm having a night in," Willow said.

"Just us then," Harry said cheerfully, sharing a smile with Buffy. Xander privately estimated that it would be about ten minutes before they started making out.

As it was, Xander was off by about five minutes. They had been patrolling and chatting quietly for fifteen when Buffy tentatively initiated a kiss. Harry promptly looked surprised, but replied with vigour. Neither of them noticed a vampire sneak towards them, then sneer, "Well, what have we here? Dinner and a snack, by the looks of things."

He didn't say anything else because Buffy impatiently hurled a stake at him, dusting him.

"What is it with vampires and clichés?" she grumbled.

"The older you get, the more dated your pop culture references are," Harry said wisely when they next came up for air.

Buffy shrugged, then looked at Harry and said, "Maybe we should do some patrolling now?"

Harry looked at her, then at the graveyard around them, then back again and grinned. "Whither thou goest," he said gallantly.

Buffy looked at her watch, then back at the graveyard. "It's still early, I'm sure we c-"

Her voice was cut off by Harry snogging her. Neither of them noticed the commando's sneaking by, one of them giving off an almost imperceptible sigh as he saw them, receiving a sympathetic pat from one of his comrades.

About ten minutes later, the two managed to disengage for long enough to regain rational thought.

"Okay, I want to see how well you can dust vampires with magic, then without," Buffy said. Harry looked at her, then said, "so, holy water, sunlight, fire, staking or decapitation, right?"

"Right."

"Ok. Let's find some vamps."

The good thing about Sunnydale is that it's generally not that hard to find a vampire. Harry pointed his wand at it and snapped, "Incendio!" The vampire, dressed in loud eighties clothing, barely had time to scream before being burned to dust.

Buffy nodded, "So the average vamp isn't going to be much of a problem. But what if one gets in close? What are you like at hand to hand?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm fast, I know that much, but I haven't done much muggle fighting since my cousin got scared of my magic and stopped using me as a punching bag."

Buffy looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, and tossed him a stake, which he caught without looking.

"Let's go hunt some vamp," Harry said.

As Buffy found, Harry proved to be an above average hand to hand fighter, his seeker reflexes, honed by combat, were up to dealing with a newbie vamp without much difficulty, though a Master vampire like Drusilla or Spike would turn him inside out in ten seconds flat. Still, she thought, as Harry dropped and scythed a leg in a sharp arc, dropping the current vampire he was fighting, then pouncing on it and staking it, training would only make him better.

"Nice one. You could do with some training, but you're pretty good already. Just remember that magic isn't always your way out," she said as he stood up and brushed the dust off his shirt. "Anyway, let's go in."

Before she finished the words, Harry grabbed her shoulder and apparated them to the edge of the UC Sunnydale campus. When Buffy got her bearings, she stared at him. "You can teleport," she said in a small voice, struggling not to be sick.

"Yeah, don't worry, apparition gets everyone like that," Harry said, helping her stand and casting an anti-nausea charm on her.

"Will Willow be able to do that?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Not anytime soon. Apparition isn't something you pick up immediately, and it can be dangerous. Many people who aren't trained are splinched. That means, separated from one of their body parts, for instance, leaving a leg behind. It's easy to reverse, but a bit unpleasant," Harry said mildly, then added, "so this is where I bid you good night."

He leaned down for a kiss, which Buffy met, and they kissed for a long moment before separating.

"Night," Buffy said with a smile.

As she turned to go, Harry said, "Wait, your stake?"

"Nah, keep it. I've got plenty, and it's nice knowing a guy's got wood for me," she said in a totally innocuous tone that was totally ruined by a cheeky wink.

Harry blushed, and said, "Goodnight Buffy," as she walked back towards her room.

Instead of immediately apparating back, Harry set about familiarising himself with the local cemeteries, reasoning that he was going to have to sometime, and he might as well get it over with. He turned sharply as he heard the muffled sounds of a fight, and the roars of some sort of demon. Following the sounds, he saw some of the commando's going up against some sort of demon. As it looked like it was about skewer one of them with its claws, Harry did not hesitate in firing off a reductor curse, blasting off the things head. What he didn't foresee was one of the commando's turning and hitting him with some sort of taser. Then everything went black.

Giles was busy going through old watcher diaries, looking to see if previous Slayers had had much, if any, contact with the Wizarding World. Since the 'Obliviate' was a favourite of Wizards, it was unlikely that there would be anything, but he persevered. And he really quite liked Harry. The boy had Lily's kindness, and most probably her temper, but James's good humour. Buffy certainly seemed to like him, and the feeling was very much reciprocated by Harry. Really, the tension between the two was almost palpable, and someone like Harry who straddled the mortal and supernatural worlds, would be perfect for Buffy. Though it was a little odd that Harry hadn't dropped by to see him, he assumed that the boy was sleeping off his jet lag, so put it out of his mind.

Two hours later, he heard a loud knocking on the door. He went and opened the door, and was surprised to see a slightly upset Buffy.

"What is it Buffy?"

"Harry. He's not at his house and no one's seen him since last night. I thought he did the appa-whatsit trick to get home, but…" she said, clearly agitated, and left the sentence hanging.

"Where did you last see him?" Giles asked briskly, as he went to arm up. Disappearances in Sunnydale were Serious Business.

"Just outside College."

"Let's start their then," Giles said firmly. He hadn't been able to save Lily and James, and he was damned if he was going to fail their son. As they walked, Buffy gave Giles the summary edition of the previous night, talking of the combat tests, the magic and definitely not the snogging.

Going through the nearby cemetery, they looked for signs of disturbances, Buffy going into full on Slayer mode as she slipped through the graves like a wraith. Eventually a cry of "Giles", told him that she had found something. As he joined her, she mutely held up Harry's wand, which Giles took and examined. Then he muttered, "Priori Incantatem."

Buffy gaped as the ghostly afterimage of a beam of orange light shot out, followed by an incendio, the cleaning charm and the repairing spell.

"I saw him do all but the orange thingy," Buffy said, and Giles nodded grimly. "What is it Giles?"

"A reductor curse. It's a powerful blasting and destroying curse, commonly usually used for demolishing obstacles and killing dark creatures without resorting to dark magic. I fear that Harry ran into something worse than a vampire last night," Giles said.

Buffy bent down and picked up what looked some sort of futuristic communications device, and said, "Several somethings."

Giles eyed the thing with disgust and said, "We'd better get back to Willow. She can use a tracking spell based on the wand. A wizard's wand is deeply bonded to its owner. The wand chooses the wizard and all that." Inwardly, he was curious as to why she didn't bat an eyelid. Yes, she had met Ethan, she had heard about Ripper, but none of the Scoobies knew that he was a wand wizard. Still, she could just be putting it down to his position as fount of all knowledge in supernatural matters. He looked sideways at Buffy, who looked preoccupied, probably plotting the violent deaths of everyone between her and Harry. He almost pitied them, facing the wrath of an angry Slayer. Almost.

Willow looked up as Buffy barged into their shared room, followed by Giles, and both looked vaguely homicidal.

"What's wrong Buffy?" she asked, hoping to get to the root of the problem and stop Buffy snapping at anyone who crossed her path.

"Harry was taken by those commando guys in a cemetery last night. He dropped his wand when they took him and Giles says that there's a connection between a wand and wizard and complex mojo stuff. We need you to find him. Can you?" Buffy said, shifting from barely contained anger to barely contained desperation.

Willow thought for a moment, then nodded. "I think so. We might need to drop by the Magic Box though, for ingredients."

Buffy sighed and nodded impatiently. "Alright, be quick!"

Half an hour later, the ingredients were bought and the spell prepared. Sitting silently, Buffy and Giles watched as Willow sat cross legged in a pentagram and chanted:

"Temol en'ereg, naia ile, man sad Harry, temol en'ereg, naia ile, man sad Harry, temol en'ereg, naia ile, man sad Harry. Temol en'ereg, til lye a'Harry!" Willow chanted, causing the holly wand to glow silver and spin sharply in mid-air, settling on a direction. Looking very tired, Willow said, "Take the wand, it'll point to him." She looked at Giles and said, "You can still do spells with it, but it would require more power than you might like, and the spell will reset each time."

Giles eyed her carefully, then picked up the wand. They had a wizard to find.

Harry woke up in white cell like room and winced. Tasers really had a nasty kick to them. He stood up and stumbled towards the clear cell door. Just before he touched, a laconic cockney drawl came from the other side of corridor.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you, mate. They've done something nasty to the doors."

Harry looked up at his fellow inmate and saw a pale man of medium height with bleach blonde wearing a black leather duster eyeing him from the cell opposite. He seemed vaguely familiar for some reason, and Harry thought that it might just be the resemblance to Draco Malfoy.

"Have they now?" he said, then shrugged. "What are you in for?"

"Standing around, minding me own business, then some buggers hit me with a taser," the cockney Malfoy-a-like said sourly. "You?"

"Saving some of the commando bastards from something large with fangs and claws. I save one of them from being skewered and they shoot me and lock me up. Bloody Americans!" Harry replied grumpily, then shrugged. "You want out?"

The Malfoy-a-like looked at him, then nodded slowly. "What d'you have in mind"

Harry simply apparated into the other man's cell, grabbed him, then apparated into the corridor in answer.

"Nifty," the man said, getting his bearings back rather more quickly, then stuck out his hand, which Harry shook. "Thanks mate. The name's Spike, by the way."

Harry recoiled and muttered, "Just my bloody luck, the one person I spring from jail happens to be William the sodding Bloody!"

Alarms started going off, and Harry sighed. "I'm Harry Potter. Temporary alliance until we get the hell out of here?"

Spike nodded, and the two ran for the closing doors, sliding underneath, then the next, before suddenly being surrounded. Harry closed the distance between them and the soldiers, rendering the soldiers weapons useless, and punching one in the face hard enough to stun him, then dragged him back as Spike seemed to be getting into difficulty, suffering crippling neurological pain whenever he tried to punch someone.

"Stop! Or I feed your friend to the vampire!" Harry bellowed, and the commandoes stopped. Spike went game face, and looked like he liked this idea, though something gave him the idea that if he tried to eat this person, it would hurt. Then again, he'd had more than one meal go down the wrong way, so he was willing to risk it. Once he was sure he had everyone's attention, Harry said coldly, keeping a firm hold on his hostage, "Take us to your leader." Then he grinned and said, "I've always wanted to say that!"

The commandoes looked at one another, then the one who appeared to be their leader nodded, and removed his mask, revealing himself to be…

"Riley? Oh, wait 'till Buffy hears this," Harry said in disbelief. "You have got _a lot_ of explaining to do."

"You know Buffy? As in, the Slayer?" Spike asked, astounded.

"Technically I'm dating her. Or at least snogging her," Harry said, and Spike did not miss Riley's wince as he said that.

"Well Captain America, looks like the Wizard beat you to Buffy! How does it feel coming in second?" he needled.

"Stop it Spike, or I'll hand you over to the nice commando people for an immediate hot date with a fire. Or a stake. And he could ask you the same, considering Drusilla always liked Angelus a bit more than you," Harry replied coldly. Spike glared at him, but recognising that this wizard was his way out, subsided. Riley just looked grateful, but Harry shot him a look that left him in no doubt that he was still pissed at him.

"Graham, with me. We're taking Hostiles 17 and 18 to Director Walsh. You lot return to your posts. Immediately," Riley barked sharply.

"But sir…"

"Agent, Hostile 17 is implanted with a cranial chip that prevents him from hurting non –HST life forms. As evil as I may be in the morning, I don't think I quite count as an HST, do you? Besides, Harry seems perfectly willing to cooperate, so I think I and Agent Miller should just about be able to manage," Riley said sarcastically, cutting off the protesting agent, and Harry found it difficult to suppress a snigger.

"Come on you two," Riley said, leading the way as Graham brought up the rear.

Maggie Walsh was certainly very surprised to see two of the prisoners being led into her office, and asked sharply, "Agent Finn, what is the meaning of this?"

"Director Walsh, Hostile 18 is a personal friend, who was unaware had been captured. A personal friend who displayed unexpected teleportation abilities which he used to break Hostile 17 out of his cell and make his escape. We cornered them, but Hostile 18 took one of our men hostage, threatening to feed him to Hostile 17," Riley said.

Walsh's eyebrows rose, and she said, "Did he use any unusual abilities in doing so, aside from the teleportation?"

"No, ma'am."

"Interesting," Walsh said neutrally.

Harry sighed, and put in, "I've been facing things rather scarier than your toy soldiers since I was one year old."

Walsh looked at him and said, "Oh?"

"Yes. A dark wizard murdered them. I remember it. Occasionally this leads to nightmares, even though I killed the bastard responsible myself," Harry said flatly.

"Wizards? Magic?"

"Yes, Director Walsh, you are messing with things you cannot hope to fully understand. Spike here, or Hostile 17 as you call him, is a Master Vampire, and the second most feared of modern times," Spike preened a little, then glared as Harry continued, "despite his ridiculous hair. I'm fairly sure that if you hadn't sucker punched him, he would have killed at least half your patrol."

"That's ridiculous, no HST-"

"This one could. He's given a friend of mine a lot of trouble in the past, and is one the few to nearly kill her in a straight fight, and believe me, I couldn't have sucker punched her like I did your commando boy, not in a month of Sundays if she had both hands tied behind her back and was blindfolded. He's feared throughout the supernatural world, for good reason. Do you know what a Slayer is, Director Walsh?"

"Some sort of boogeyman to the HST's. Just a legend," Walsh said, suddenly feeling a lot less sure of herself as the glittering green eyes of the young man opposite her pinned her in place.

"Since I'm dating her, or hope to be soon, that comes as something of a surprise. The Slayer is one girl, born into every generation, who basically functions as an all-round monster killer, though vamps are a specialty. Spike has killed two or three of them," Harry looked briefly at Spike who merely smirked and shrugged, "I'm not sure if the one in World War II was his kill. To reiterate: He has killed at least two highly trained women with superpowers, any of whom could turn your soldiers into mince with their bare hands, both of whom were designed and trained to kill people like him. And he is still young for a Master vampire. If I didn't know he depended on me to get out and cannot harm humans, I would be _very _scared of him," Harry paused, then added, "In my own defence, I didn't recognise him when I busted him out."

"If he's that dangerous, why should we let him out?" Riley put in.

"I was planning to hand him over to the Slayer. He's her field of responsibility, though since he's mostly harmless, for now at least, she'll probably let him go," Harry said with a shrug. Spike glared at him and begun planning his escape. Yes. Plan. Him. What people like Angelus and the Slayer failed to realise was that he made good plans. He just got bored easily.

"Here we get to the difficult point," Walsh said. "We cannot let him go, or he will spread news of the Initiative and everything we have worked for could fall."

Harry shrugged, "Ma'am the only reason I'm still here is because I'm curious. You're walking on thin ice and messing with things that you do not understand. I was sent here by both your government and mine to protect the world from the Hellmouth, that thing we're on that attract demons, since I have prior expertise in Dark Lords. How may HST's have you killed Riley?"

"17," Riley said and Harry stared at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. Spike just settled for looking smugly contemptuous, an expression that would not have been out of place on Draco Malfoy's face.

"Okay, I get that your main intention is to capture these things, but 17? I'm sorry, I've been here two nights, patrolled for one of them, and dusted 6, only one with magic. As for the Slayer…" Harry shrugged. "She's been fighting vampires since she was 14 or 15 and she patrols most nights, so I'd say her tally was at least into the tens of thousands by now. Not to mention all the apocalypses she's stopped. Yes, apocalypses. She's stopped the world being sucked into hell once, killed a pure ascended demon with the explosion that destroyed Sunnydale high, and believe me, all that explosive was necessary. She's destroyed or helped destroy two of the oldest vampires on record and blew a demon that destroys anything that is not pure demons, and cannot be killed, only dismembered, into lots of little pieces with a rocket launcher. I've stopped one apocalypse, thought that was fairly localised to Britain, hell, even _Spike's_ stopped one, admittedly for entirely selfish reasons. You have stopped less apocalypses than a self-centred being of soulless evil. Oh dear," Harry said, chuckling.

Riley raised his eyebrows, apparently unoffended, unlike Walsh, who looked like she was about to order Harry's immediate death, and said, "How can you prove this? Can you get Buffy down here to provide evidence?"

Spike suddenly cocked his head, listening, and smirked. "No need mate. And in my experience, if you're between a Slayer and her boyfriend, you're going to be in a world of pain."

Exactly what Spike meant by this statement was immediately shown by one of the agents flying through the office door, followed by an angry Buffy and Giles.

"Hi Buffy, Giles. I was just having a chat with Director Walsh, here, explaining why it's a very bad idea to mess with the supernatural. I was just about to ask why they captured me in the first place, especially since I saved one of her toy soldiers from turning into a demon's midnight snack, the ungrateful bastards," Harry said cheerfully.

"What's Spike doing here?" Buffy asked as she went to hug Harry, looking an intriguing mixture of puzzled, angry and relieved.

"Your boyfriend busted me out, Slayer, for which I'm thankful. This lot ain't with you?" Spike said, slightly wary now that Buffy was present.

Leaning into the hug, Harry explained, "I didn't recognise when I busted him out. I only knew him as a bloke who warned me about the electrocuting doors."

"Shall I stake him?"

"Your call, but he's got something in his head that only allows him to hurt demons, so I wouldn't bother. Besides, we can just release him onto the streets and let him declare open season on anything evil in Sunnydale," Harry said with a shrug.

"Hmm," Buffy said noncommittally. Then she looked up and her eyes narrowed. "So, _Professor_ Walsh, care to explain what's going on here? And you Riley? Why did you bag Harry?"

"He showed signs of paranormal abilities, and the Demonic Research Initiative is ordered to capture and investigate all those who do, to protect the American people. If it's paranormal, it's ours," Walsh said, not batting an eyelid.

"That's where you're wrong," Harry said, "Could I make a call?"

Walsh eyed him, then nodded. Harry dialled the number for the South-Western United States Auror office, then waited for a moment.

"Hello, this Harry Potter, Hellmouth Watchman. Can I speak to Commander Rosenberg please?" Harry said formally. "Thank you."

After another couple of moments, Harry was put through. "Ah, Commander, hi. Sorry to call you at this time, but I've run into a bunch of muggles calling themselves the Demonic Research Initiative. I'm a bit annoyed with them because they tasered me after I saved one of their Agent's lives and seem to have been planning to experiment on me, like they have with a whole series of demons and vampires."

Harry listened for another moment, then nodded, "Yeah, this lot have the devil's own luck. They managed to catch Spike. And by capture, I mean, taser from behind when he was distracted, so don't give them too much credit. Anyway, Commander, could you tell this lot that we have jurisdiction over the paranormal? Keep 'em off our back, that sort of thing? Thanks."

He looked up at Walsh, and grinned. "It's for you," he said, handing over the phone, which she took.

"Hello? This is Director Walsh of the Demonic Research Initiative, and I am very displeased you sent a rookie operative into our jurisdiction. What? He's no more than 19, how is he an expert? I find that very hard to believe, Commander. What do you mean, I have authorisation from the Defense Secretary, how can you supersede that? What do you _mean_, you have a blank cheque from the President on matters supernatural? Then why haven't I heard of you before?" Walsh said, looking steadily more and more agitated as the conversation went on.

So wrapped up in the conversation was she and everyone else in the room, that no one noticed Spike inching towards the button to put the call on speaker phone. He pressed it, and was rewarded with Auror Rosenberg's calm, with a hint of anger in them, tones washing over the room. "… because only the President and select other members of any one administration know who we are. Stay out of the supernatural, Director Walsh,that is an order. If you wish for clarification, call Washington. As it is, I believe the President is sending you an official order to stand down, and either disband with your soldiers being reposted, or work strictly in a support role to the Slayer and the Watchman. I am told he is most displeased with this meddling, as I believe he doesn't particularly like dealing with the supernatural at the best of times. So this is an order with presidential backing: release Mr Potter, and keep your nose out of business you don't understand, or you'll find yourself posted to Alaska with orders to count the snowflakes. Do I make myself very clear?"

Walsh's eyes narrowed, and said, "You do realise that I will appeal against this order?"

"Feel free. In the meantime, leave my operative and the Slayer to do their job," Rosenberg replied, then his tone softened. "Director Walsh, I've heard good things about you, how dedicated you are to your job. I would recommend that you do the sensible thing and back down, for your own good. Don't ruin your career by fighting a fight you won't win."

"Understood, Commander. Good day," Walsh said coldly, putting down the phone, then regarded Harry, who was grinning broadly.

"Do you have something to say, Watchman?" she ground out.

"Just this," Harry said, then made an L shape with his left hand and drawled, "Loser!"

Giles rolled his eyes as Walsh gave Harry a glare that would have made a lesser man quail and Buffy giggled, and said, scrawling down his home number, "Director Walsh, I think we need to go now. Here is my contact number, and we can discuss the disposition of Spike and of the Initiative at a later date."

"Oi! I'm never coming back 'ere!" Spike said loudly, shocked out of his amusement at Walsh's predicament.

"You'll shut up unless you want me to stake you, Spike," Buffy said levelly, then leaned forward, placing her palms flat on Walsh's desk.

"If you ever take or hurt one of my friends ever again, instead of a metaphorical stick up your ass, there will be an actual stick up your ass," Buffy said softly, then imitating Rosenberg, added, "Do I make myself very clear?"

Suddenly, the agent she had hurled through the door stood and threw a punch at her. She ducked and spun away, using his own momentum to viciously smash him face first into Walsh's desk, causing it to crack, then hurled him into the nearest wall, denting the wall as he slid down the it, totally insensible. Riley's eyes widened, and he made to start forward, but Harry was now pointing his retrieved wand at him, and said coolly, "Don't even think about it, unless you think you'd make a very fetching frog."

Riley did the sensible thing and stepped back, while Maggie Walsh was thinking. Thinking that maybe project Adam needed to be sped up.

Yes, she thought as Harry levitated a protesting Spike out the door, Buffy staying very close to him as he did, utterly ignoring Riley, It definitely did, or the Initiative would have failed.

**Well, that should be the last chapter for a while, because I honestly need to work for my upcoming exams.** **The language Willow uses in her spell is (badly) translated Sindarin, which basically means, "Wand of Holly, where is Harry (x3), Wand of Holly, lead/point us to Harry."**


	3. Chapter 3: Calm before the Storm

**A/N: Once again, I own**

**Anon (I'm not sure if you're on Twisting the Hellmouth or , but I'm posting this on both, so whatever): It's called bluffing. Or overawing your opponent to gain an advantage. As for the nausea, I suggest tablets.**

**Note: Initiative soldiers are low level super soldiers. They can take a beating from a Slayer without too many permanent effects. **

** oOo**

Rosenberg sat back and sighed. He would not like to have to do that again. That Walsh woman had powerful friends in Washington, friends that would be perfectly willing to turn her on the Magical world, and he had no way of knowing if the next President would look favourably on magic and not favour Walsh.

Since the smart money said it was going to G. W. Bush, he hoped that the man would prove to as pragmatic as his father. What he had said had been true, she was a very dedicated worker. What he had not mentioned was the small problems of a total lack of morality and a god complex the exact size of Belgium (according to the stats department. They were weird that way). Still, she was unlikely to try and turn on the Slayer and the Watchman anytime soon, he thought and his lips twitched into a smile. If she did, he reckoned that she would quickly find out why the name 'Ripper' still caused veteran Auror's worldwide to break out into a cold sweat whenever they heard it.

Still, it was good to know that Harry was already close to the Slayer, though the presence of Spike was a worrying one. People often forgot how dangerous he was, dismissing him as a pale shadow of Angelus. But even a pale shadow of Angelus would be a terrifying prospect, and as it was, Spike was so much more than that, a manipulator even better than Angelus. Or at least, he was when he chose to be, mostly because no one expected it from him. And anyone who somehow knew what made Slayer's tick, and their weaknesses was dangerous. Yes, Sunnydale was going to be a very volatile place in the next few months, he thought. Then again, it always is.

Harry was occupied with writing a couple of letters for his new owl Loki (it had green eyes, dark feathers and Harry claimed that it always eyed him as if it was plotting to kill him) to take back across the Atlantic (Ginny didn't have a computer and Hermione was in the process of buying a new one).

_Dear Ron and Hermione,_

_How are you? Sunnydale's great. Well, if you remove the Vampire infestation and the overzealous muggle demon hunting commando's. Anyway, first day I arrived here, I had a chat with Rupert Giles (Ron, could you send me a copy of his file? It should be filed under 'Ripper'), a really nice guy who knew mum and dad. We chatted about the Hellmouth and life in England as compared to California (conclusion: Tea in California is pig swill, politicians slimy pieces of crap in both, Kingsley excepted and Americans don't understand real football), then I met the Slayer, Buffy Summers. Short, blonde and very sweet, she combines incredible good looks with the strength and ability to drop kick most demons half way across a graveyard. She took me out to meet her friends (nice people. Xander = loyal, friendly geek and Willow = sweet natured know it all. Sound familiar?) at the one club in town, called 'The Bronze'. _

_Some dickhead of an ex made a nasty joke about Buffy so I beat him up (Hermione, stop scowling, Ron, cheer as much as you like). The next morning, I found that hangover plus jet lag plus presence of attractive woman equals exploding coffee machine (how was I to know I was that bad at the instant coffee spell?), and that next night, I went patrolling with Buffy, and found young vamps to be like walking targets, but even a decade old ones to be very scary at close quarters. _

_Considering Buffy killed a vampire whose age was counted in millennia at 16, you get an idea of how much stronger and better she is (physically) than even a combat trained witch or wizard. Willow's a witch, but a really strange one. _

_Her magic's a hybrid between our kind and the Wicca stuff that's popular over here, and she'll be really powerful when fully trained. D'you guys want to meet up? I'm bringing Buffy, Xander, Anya (Xander's on again off again girlfriend. Currently off. Former vengeance demon. Very funny, a bit weird and totally shameless. She also seems like Luna's lost sister or something) Giles and Willow across, mostly to get Willow (and maybe Giles) a wand, and also to show them the Wizarding World. No dates set in stone, so just call me (I've attached my muggle home number below) if you want to chat. Say hi to Ginny for me, and tell her the exploding coffee machine happened when I tried to use her spell, she should get a kick out of it. _

_Lots of Love (blech! )_

_Harry_

_Dear Harry,_

_That sounds wonderful (if a little scary. Are you sure you should be fighting even young vampires?), and I'm glad you're really getting on well with the Slayer (don't they tend to work alone and in secret?), she sounds like a lovely person. This letter is short because that feathered demon you call an owl is giving me the evil eye and it's disturbing both Ron and I with its perpetual staring. That owl is too quiet to be natural! Ron says that he can't get hold of the Ripper file, it's regional commander level clearance. What are you doing hanging around with someone that dangerous? We asked Mr and Mrs Weasley and Andromeda, and they didn't want to talk. All they said was that he was nice young man who went dark out of grief and that he was extremely dangerous, wandless or not. We'd love to meet all of them, they sound like a wonderful crowd. Plus, Slayer's are really rare in the magical community, they're considered semi mythical by most wizards. I'm particularly curious about this Willow person, and a little worried. What effect has growing up on the world's most active Hellmouth had on her magic? Would next Tuesday be good? Call us, the number's below. _

_Missing you lots, _

_Hermione and Ron _

_P.S. Ginny thought it was hilarious._

One phone call later, and a date was set. Harry put down the phone and smiled at Buffy.

"Next Tuesday's great. They're looking to meeting you all," he said. "One small problem. When we're in public in the Wizarding World, I'm going to need to keep the hood of my cloak up."

Buffy frowned slightly. "Why?"

"BecauseI'," Harry mumbled.

Buffy was practiced at decoding babble. "Famous?"

Harry nodded, chagrined. "Everyone knows what I look like, wants an autograph, a picture, hell, even a chance to say they met Harry Potter. It's irritating."

Spike, currently tied up in a chair in Giles' living room, perked up. "You're Harry Potter?"

Harry eyed him suspiciously, then nodded.

"Oh my god," Spike said, then laughed. "Oh, this is bloody priceless!"

"What?" Harry asked, but Spike continued laughing.

"Spill, Spike, or you get staked here and now," Buffy said.

"All right Slayer, you win," Spike said, then paused, savouring his next words. "Your boyfriend is my great grandnephew, unless I miss my guess. William Potter, at your service."

Buffy just stared at him, then turned at a steady thumping noise in the background. Harry had performed a basic genealogy charm, checked the positive result and was now banging his head against the table.

"I. Knew. The. Bastard. Looked. Familiar," Harry complained between thumps.

Buffy hauled him upright. "Stop doing that," she scolded.

Spike just grinned. "So, nephew of mine, you've been getting with the Slayer, good work. She a good shag?"

"Can I kill him?" Harry asked plaintively. "Or at least let him loose?"

"Harry, you know the agreement with the Initiative is that we keep under constant supervision," Giles said, emerging from his room with a book. "What has he done this time that warrants death?"

"Revealed himself to be my however many times great-uncle," Harry sighed, as Giles looked startled. "And speaking of which, who's going to supervise him while we're in London?"

"Riley?" Buffy suggested.

"I may not like Riley much, but subjecting him to two whole days of uninterrupted Spike is a step too far," Harry said. "Besides, Riley might actually stake him. As pleasant as that might be, Spike knows things and could be a useful attack dog." He was never going to admit in a million years that Spike was actually quite good company, in his own weird way.

"Mom? They get on surprisingly well considering she smashed him over the head with a fireaxe when they first met."

"Tempting, but again, two days of unadulterated Spike. Besides, he'd have to be tied up, and it might make things a little difficult. Don't worry, I can put a Silencing charm on him," Harry replied as Buffy pouted. "Hang on, I'll just go call Hermione again."

He picked up the phone and dialled Hermione's number. "Hey, Hermione, sorry for calling you again, but I've just found a long lost family member who might have to tag along. Who is he? Um. Does 'William the Bloody' or 'Spike' ring any bells?"

Buffy and Spike snickered simultaneously as Harry winced and held the phone away from his ear, then promptly pretended that they hadn't laughed.

"No, no I'm not joking. I wish I was. I _really _wish I was. That Muggle group I told you about, the Initiative, caught him more by luck than judgement and installed a chip in his head. It stops him harming humans and I've seen it in action. Gives him the world's worst migraine every time he tries. We can't leave him anywhere else, and I get the funny feeling that if we give him back to the Initiative they'll torture him for information on Buffy and the Slayer line, which would be bad. Besides, he's smart. Usually, anyway. He wouldn't try anything in Diagon Alley, not with a whole bunch of wizards and a Slayer. Besides, we could just tie him up and leave him in a room all day if I can't find a solar repelling spell."

"Oi, I'm not gonna be left behind like luggage," Spike complained, though there was a gleam of interest in his eyes at the words 'solar repelling spell'.

"It's that or going extra crispy in the sun," Harry said, "take your pick. Now shut up. Sorry Hermione, Spike's whining. Hardly the badass vampire that Remus taught us about." Spike sulked.

"Remind me why can't we just leave him here?" Buffy asked.

"I have limited experience of Spike, but I'm willing to bet that he would find a way to get out and cause trouble if left here," Harry said, turning away from the phone briefly.

"Harry's right Buffy, as much as it pains me to say it. Spike is going to have to come with us."

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, I suppose."

Harry winced and mouthed 'sorry', as Hermione began talking again. "He can come? On what conditions? That's… brilliant Hermione. Great, thanks 'Mione, that's fantastic. See ya then, bye."

"What conditions?" Spike asked, eyes narrowing as Harry put down the phone.

Harry's eyes gleamed with mischief. "First, he has to offer blood and/or hair to Mr Ollivander, the wandmaker, for a wand, second, he has to take part in an interview with Hermione about his past. She's been boning up on Vampires a lot, apparently. It's that or a day being a test subject for George Weasley's pranks," Harry said, then blushed as Spike started laughing and Buffy looked at him in shock.

"Boning up means studying. Not… that," Harry explained.

"All right. I'll donate, and the bint can have her interview," Spike said. "Anything to get out of here."

"Oh, and Spike? Hermione says that she'll use a castrating hex if you aren't on your best behaviour at all times. Trust me. She'll do it," Harry added, as Buffy crowed with laughter.

"I'm going to like this girl," Buffy said with a grin.

"I thought you might," Harry muttered, kissing her gently. She reciprocated and the kiss deepened.

"Oh please, nephew of mine, you're making me sick. Take it elsewhere," Spike moaned.

"For once, Spike has a point," Giles said delicately. As the two were about to go, Giles called Harry back.

"Harry, a word please. Alone."

Harry turned back to Giles, and waved Buffy on. She pouted slightly and gave Giles a warning look that said 'leave him in one piece'.

"What is it, Giles?"

"Harry, you're a nice young man, and it's excellent that you and Buffy are getting together, but I just want to say this, since her own father isn't in contact anymore and she has become like a daughter to me these past few years," Giles said, giving Harry a meaningful look, suddenly looking rather more scary than his kind and fatherly demeanour would suggest. No longer was he simply Giles the Watcher, he was also Ripper, the terror of Magical Europe. "You know my past better than most, so you should know what I mean when I say that if you ever hurt her, you will find out _precisely_ why I was once called Ripper. Understood?"

Harry blinked. He wasn't quite sure, but he thought Giles had slipped into a lower class accent as he spoke, sounding a little like Spike. Then he met Giles' penetrating stare, then said, "Understood."

Giles smiled, the sense of dangerous power dissipating in an instant. "Good. Now, she's waiting for you, go on," he said, shooing Harry out.

Spike eyed Giles appraisingly. Like his single-minded and impressively vicious attack on Angelus a few years back, this showed a new, and to Spike, interesting side to the tweedy middle aged Watcher.

Buffy was waiting at the top of the stairs, and arched an eyebrow at Harry. "Giles gave you the talk, didn't he?"

Harry nodded. "The man can be _very _scary when he wants to be."

"Has it put you off?" Buffy asked. Outwardly it was a jokey question, but inside she felt a flicker of fear.

Harry responded by kissing her passionately. When they next came up for air, she said, "I guess not."

"You guess right," Harry said, eyes twinkling, then kissed her again.

"Harry, can we go a little slow?" Buffy said suddenly. Harry cocked his head in curiosity. "I'm still getting over Parker."

Harry's face darkened. "That bastard," he growled, then his face softened again and he placed a gentle kiss on Buffy's lips and pulled her close. "I will go as slow or as fast as you want me to, I promise you that," he whispered in her ear.

"Hey, I was all for going slow," Buffy said, narrowing her eyes and poking him in the chest, "so stop going all come hither on me."

"Is it my fault you're totally irresistible?" Harry asked with a grin, then he looked more serious and kissed her gently again and looked deep into her eyes. "As fast, or slow, as you want."

They spent the rest of the day hanging out and drinking coffee. A fairly mundane day as most would measure things, in the lives of two far from mundane people. But what was coming was far from mundane.

**UC Sunnydale Campus**

Riley sighed. Just when the Initiative had been finding its feet in Sunnydale, just as research results from the HST's had begun to come in, they had been flatly told to back off. By two kids and a man in a tweed suit. Only one of them was even American, for Christ's sake! But they had powerful friends, friends powerful enough to tell the trained professionals to back down and let the amateurs do their job.

"Hey Riley. Why so glum?" Forrest asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"You know the European spec ops guys you told me about?" Riley said.

Forrest nodded.

"One of their operatives is in town, and we caught him a couple of nights ago by accident. You had the day off. He broke out pretty much as soon as he came to, taking Hostile 17 with him, and we've been told to back off by Washington. Walsh is furious," Riley said.

"What? Who could overrule Dr Walsh?"

"The President," Riley sighed.

"You're joking," Forrest said flatly.

"I'm not. This guy isn't even military. He's a capable fighter, he's dangerous, but he isn't military. He and his friends are amateurs, and the guy just laughed at us, saying we were messing with things we didn't understand and _we_, the trained professionals, were the amateurs. In Walsh's office. Right in front of her," Riley replied. Forrest's jaw dropped.

"The guy's got some serious balls on him if he can do that," Forrest said. "But why did he laugh?"

"If half the things he said were true, then maybe he had a point, but the guy has no respect for authority or military hierarchy," Riley said, sounding annoyed. "We learnt a couple of things that night as well."

"What?"

"Magic is real. Or something close enough to it. And the stories of the Slayer, that HST bogeyman? They're real," Riley said heavily.

Forrest looked at him carefully. "Riley, I know you're really dedicated to duty, and that we see some weirdass things in this job, but maybe you should take a break."

Riley laughed sourly. "I saw them with my own eyes, Forrest. The guy teleported out of his cell and blasted the head off an HST that the tasers didn't even slow down. With a _word_."

"And the Slayer?"

"Buffy Summers."

Forrest started laughing. "Okay, now I know you're either mad or joking. Buffy? She's tiny!"

"You didn't see what she did to McManus. Or to whoever got in her way. McManus was coming up behind her, about to take her out, and five seconds later Walsh's desk has a crack in it and there's a McManus shaped dent in the wall. Everyone between the entrance and Walsh's office is in medical and out of commission for at least a month," Riley said. "She then said that if Walsh touched one of her friends again, she would shove a literal stick up her ass, instead of the metaphorical one already there."

"Jeez. You really aren't joking," Forrest said, taking in Riley's expression. "So what are we gonna do? And who is the guy anyway?"

"Specs. The one who beat the crap out of Parker," Riley said. "He's a teleporter and has some energy projection abilities at least. His CO implied that he's a veteran fighter, which I don't believe for a second. And we're gonna do _nothing_. By Presidential order, he, Buffy and those who work with her are untouchable. Apparently it would cause a major diplomatic fiasco with the Brits, which is apparently the last thing the President needs right now. We're relegated to a support role."

Forrest frowned. "You're kidding. Specs? He looked like he could fight, but seriously?"

"He's dangerous. Even if he had no abilities, he has very powerful friends," Riley replied. "One's that can make Walsh back off and are at his beck and call."

Forrest looked grim. "This is our turf. We're the professionals. This isn't right, Riley."

"Of course it isn't. But so far, I can't think of any way out of it," Riley said.

"That's not the Riley Finn I know. The guy I know would do his duty even if it killed him," Forrest said. "And our duty is to get these civilians out of our way."

"Forrest, our duty is to serve the President. He's the Commander in Chief," Riley replied. "And you can't really serve your country by being dead."

"Bullshit Riley. Our duty is to the American people. That's who we protect, not the President. We have to everything we can to make sure that the Initiative can do it's job," Forrest said stubbornly.

"Leave it Forrest," Graham said. "It'll be like running into a steel door. And I snuck some intel on this Potter guy, Specs. He's a powerful energy manipulator, more powerful than any HST we've ever run across, and according to the files, has commanded in battle since he was fifteen. He conducted a guerrilla war, broke into his opponent's strong hold and stole some prisoners from right under his nose and killed his opponent in a one on one duel. It also says that he trained a resistance group so well that the British Spec ops group, the Auror's, have incorporated his methods into their training program and head hunted at least 70% of those trained by him. And none of the core group he trained died in three years of on and off battles. Even the people he works for don't know the full extent of his powers, he's that strong."

Riley raised an eyebrow. "Where d'you get this stuff?"

"Walsh has been building a file on him, calling in a lot of markers. I read it when she left it on her desk. Apparently MI5 and some super-secret and incredibly powerful British agency called Torchwood that does what we do in Britain gave her some info and warned her off messing with him," Graham said.

"He's still mostly human. He'll make a mistake. So will Buffy. I mean, have you seen her, she's dumb as a post," Forrest said.

"She also has super powers. And did you never read comics, Forrest? Think Clark Kent," Graham said. "The best way to hide is in plain sight."

"And I've marked her work. She's smart," Riley said. "Even Walsh was impressed."

Forrest just snorted disgustedly. Superpowers or no, these people were amateurs. Stick amateurs in combat, and they died. And he wouldn't shed too many tears when they did.

**Later that evening:**

While trouble was brewing elsewhere, Buffy was relaying her day to an amused Willow

"He's a total romantic," she gushed. "He just kissed me lightly and said, 'as fast or slow as you want'. We went and got coffee, chatted for a bit, and then he took me driving into the desert in his Aston Martin which is _way _cool, like a James Bond car, and we watched the sun set."

"You're over Angel then," Willow said.

Buffy looked thoughtful and said, "I'm not sure. Like, I'll always care for Angel, but… we can't be together and I need to move on."

"Do you think you're in love with Harry?" Willow asked.

"Eh," Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. I do know that I like hanging out with him, and when he smiles…" she tailed off, smiling slightly.

"You're in love with him then," Willow said with a smile.

"No! I barely know him! Well… maybe," Buffy said, pouting. Then she looked serious and said, "Wills, how are you dealing with Oz?"

"Like you said, I have to move on," Willow said, with brittle brightness.

Buffy let the conversation drop.

**Well, it took a while, but I hope it's worth it. Please Review!**


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